


Shameful

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, I think this is the first story for that ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Prompt: Rey knows enough about her body and mind to know how she reacts to stress. So she knows why she has inappropriate dreams and thoughts about Kylo Ren. Reclaiming power, the allure of the forbidden, etc. She gets it, okay?</p><p>Part of this whole light side of the Force gig is accepting her feelings but she still isn't proud. With that in mind, when she starts getting that Kylo itch, Rey tries to think calming thoughts. She thinks about the ocean, about grass shivering in the wind, about the way Luke's metal hand flexes in sunlight, about how it might feel on her skin after hours of exercise, about how quickly it would warm against her....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shameful

**Author's Note:**

> For the Force Awakens Kinkmeme

Rey’s had to take care of herself for most of her life, so she’s pretty familiar with how she reacts to things. The first time she wakes up in a tangle of blankets with her body covered in a sheen of sweat, an ache between her thighs and the image of Kylo Ren’s face burned into her eyelids she’s surprised for about half a second. It’s pretty obvious where it came from, he’s the culmination of everything she should not want, of the Dark Side of the Force, all wrapped up in one neat little package. Knowing why Rey wants him doesn’t in anyway make the desire disappear, it just makes her feel guiltier when she dreams of him.

It happens again and again, she dreams of him coming to her on this watery planet and taking her, of herself riding him in the snow, of him worshipping her body instead of trying to enter her mind. Ren does nothing to alleviate the itch when she wakes up, never slips her hand down when she lies awake in her bed thinking about Kylo Ren. She wants to, wants to give in and let herself go, because isn’t that what the light side is, accepting your feelings, but every time she considers it her shame halts her.

Instead she tries to meditate, as Luke has been instructing her how to, whenever the urge hits her she attempts to clear her mind, Rey herself that the desire she feels towards Kylo Ren is merely a distraction on her path to becoming a Jedi. Except Rey hasn’t quite mastered meditation, much to her own frustration, so she settles for pushing her mind towards other things.

Things like how she’s never seen so much water in her life, not that she can recall at least, how sometimes even when it doesn’t rain she will wake up with to find the ground damp with water. The first time it happens, when she walks out and the sun gleams just right through the clouds so that the grass seems to gleam with its own light Rey falls to her knees in awe. Luke finds her like that, running her hand over the grass and grinning as it comes away wet, and rather than say anything immediately he sits down beside her, unconcerned that his robes will likely stain green (and hers will too, the thought makes her feel dizzy with delight).

“I grew up on a desert planet as well.”

Rey knew this, because the story of Luke Skywalker is told everywhere, but she hadn’t quite realized what it meant until that moment. “The only water there was what we drew from the atmosphere.”

She doesn’t offer any information about Jakku, doesn’t want to talk about the tightly controlled wells that drew the scarce water from underground. Luke may have grown up on a desert planet, but Rey doesn’t think he understands thirst like she does. He seems to understand this, and doesn’t pry. Instead he just talks, “I don’t think I’ve felt dry since I came here. The fog never lifts, whether it be cold or warm.”

“It gets warm?” Rey interrupts, not looking at him, focusing on the water sliding down the face of a cliff.

“Oh yes, but that’s even worse in my opinion. When I trained with my master-“ he cuts off for a second, before resuming his train of thought, “It was this awful jungle planet, the entire place shrouded in mist, but it was so warm I could barely stand to wear any clothing at all.”

“If it was a jungle couldn’t you just take off your shirt?” Luke gives her a look, and she can see him grinning beneath his gray beard, “I mean, if the sun wasn’t able to burn you.”

“Oh that’s what I thought, but I learned my lesson quick.” Instead of lessons that day, Rey and Luke had simply talked. He told her about how he had had to pick off insects trying to burrow into his skin after walking through the mud, how his skin had itched for days after he’d gotten a rash from the local wildlife.

This is what Rey thinks about whenever the image of Kylo Ren appears in her thoughts, Luke’s nephew, she tries to imagine a beetle the size of Chewie, but with a carapace so black that it seemed to draw in all light from around it. Rey looks up at the sky, overcast and gray and wonders what a hurricane looks like, how much water is in a tsunami.

Instead she thinks of Luke’s face as he tried to describe what it’s like to live on a planet locked in eternal winter, how the heavy wrinkles that have come with age and hard ship disappeared when he described the ridiculous amounts of layers they had to wear even when inside. Rey can’t imagine living somewhere where it’s cold all the time, the snow on the Starkiller Base had taught her thought, but she doesn’t have to imagine the light that appears in Luke’s eyes when he talks about constructing a snowman in the shape of Artoo.

Rey likes him best when he’s talking about stuff like that, not just about his friends, but just when Luke’s face takes on this fond look and she wishes he would look at her like that. Wishes she knew what his lips felt like when they were curved into that smile, what his metal hand felt like, covered in the water that coats every inch of this planet, how it would feel against the most intimate parts of her, would it be cold, or warm as if made from flesh.

Rey is suddenly glad that it’s late at night; that her master is already asleep, because the shame she felt at imagining Kylo Ren is nothing compared to the shame she feels at fantasizing about his uncle. Except unlike before, she can’t quite stop her hand reaching down, sliding over her body and underneath her pants. It’s a different sort of shame, forbidden for an entirely different reason.

She can’t quite bring herself to slip her hands beneath her underwear, instead Rey draws her fingers over her clit, jolting at the rough fabric against it. It’s a rough scramble to finish, she can’t bear to draw it out, merely jolting her fingers roughly against herself. She can’t help imagining that they aren’t her own finger though, they’re cold from the chill night air and she pictures them as Luke’s prosthetic, roughly stroking her and the same is still there but it’s so good.

Rey imagines Luke above her, whispering praise into her ear, she wants to be able to reach up and feel his body, because she knows that regardless of his age that his muscles have not faded, not with the way he moves. Rey wants to see his eyes light as he makes her come- she wants, wants so much-

Her orgasm is like lightning, her back bowing off the bed as her hand stills against herself, eyes falling open as she stares blankly at the ceiling. Rey’s frozen like that, the phantom image of Luke imbedded into her eyes as her body shakes uncontrollably in pleasure.

It’s over as quickly as it started, her body collapsing back onto the bed, her blankets sticking to her sweaty body. Rey can’t move, paralyzed by her shame, her breath leaving her in ragged gasps that she wants to hush because they’re so loud- what if Luke hears, but she can’t, can’t do anything but close her eyes and let exhaustion take her. There will be no dreams, not of Kylo Ren or of Luke Skywalker, Rey is sure of this.


End file.
